November 01, 2015 5:00am
Luna walked through the door with her box of donuts, and a scowl on her face. How can a person with a dozen donuts look so unhappy?
“Good morning Luna. Did you enjoy Halloween last night?” I said, but kind of sarcastically.
“Fuck you.” She said, like usual.
“Did you spook all the little trick-or-treaters with that scowl on your face?” I asked.
“No.” She said.
Luna was in a bad mood, like usual. I could tell because she is Luna, and she was acting just like herself.
“You didn’t run into any scary witches who might have decided to put a curse on you for only handing out bite size candy bars, instead of the full-sized ones?” I asked.
“You are the only curse that I have to deal with.” She said. “You are more like a plague.” Ouch!
“I am hurt. A plague on both your houses! I am sped. Is he gone and hath nothing?… Hey Luna, can you guess what play that was from?” I asked.
“Go to hell.” Luna said.
“That is incorrect. The correct answer is “Romeo and Juliet”. Did you read that in school when you were a kid back in the days when Shakespeare wrote it?” I asked.
Luna gave me the “look of death”. The “look of death” is the same look as the “go fuck yourself” look, and the “I hate you” look, but with subtle differences in how much she squints her eyes. She went into the pantry, and pulled out the hot foods. I watched her put the eggs out for guests, and wondered if they could be warm enough to eat. My guess was, they were not. When I sat back down, I suddenly heard the sound of a glass bottle breaking on a hard floor. I walked to the dining room, and I was overwhelmed by the smell of Tabasco sauce.
“Did you have a little accident, Luna?” I asked.
“No.” She said as she grabbed a broom to sweep up the glass.
“It looks like you dropped the hot sauce.” I said.
“Shut up.” She said.
“You know, that sauce was for people’s food, and not their tear ducts.” I said, with a chuckle.
“I said shut up. This is your fault” She said.
“How the hell is it my fault?” I asked.
“Because you are a distraction, and you wanted this to happen.” She said.
“I definitely did not want you to break an entire bottle of hot sauce on the dining room floor. It’s like you are pepper-spraying everyone who walks into the dining room.” I said.
“You want to know what I think?” She said.
“At least it isn’t Sriracha? That would be a crying shame if you busted a whole bottle of Sriracha. I love that stuff.” I said.
Luna said something in Spanish. She looked me right in the eye. I am sure they were unkind words. I decided not to push my luck, and went into the office to give Luna some space. It’s only a matter of time before she goes full-blown postal. I will most likely go out as the first of her many victims.